


Broken Boundaries

by MrRhapsodist



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Cute, Diapers, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gender-neutral Reader, Kinky Monika, POV Second Person, Sharing a Room, There is Only Monika, Virtual Reality, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23167843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrRhapsodist/pseuds/MrRhapsodist
Summary: It's been years since you loaded up a certain visual novel and went down the rabbit hole.Monika's been with you ever since. She knows all your secrets. All your kinks, fetishes, and coping mechanisms.And she's ready to try something new.
Relationships: Monika (Doki Doki Literature Club!)/Reader, Monika/The Player (Doki Doki Literature Club!)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Broken Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> I've watched far too many Let's Plays (mostly by Backwardz Compatible on Rooster Teeth) about this game, and I love it so much it scares me. I wanted to play around with Monika's characterization, especially considering her interest and power over the Player (rather than the Protagonist). Some of what I've got here is a little bit of her in the game, a little bit of kink-related tropes I've seen on Tumblr and Reddit, and a bit of another video game yandere, Giffany from _Gravity Falls_. Hope it was worth the effort!

You downloaded the game because you saw over a dozen Let’s Plays and Twitch streams on it. Half your friends said, “You _gotta_ play this!” The other half, to a tee, swallowed and shook their heads whenever the title was mentioned in conversation.

You had to get it. You had to _know._

And, truth be told, you weren’t the kind of person who hated surprising or dark content. Not since you were eleven and you stumbled onto a hardcore BDSM website late one night. Not since you learned how to scrub your Internet history before your parents could ever find out you were lurking on Dom/sub forums and dipping your toe into the ageplay subculture. Reading about munches, kinky fiction, Tumblr posts about girls wearing diapers and looking for a Daddy. You were a weeb all through high school, from _Evangelion_ to _Azumanga Daioh,_ and you could quote everything from Harry Potter from 2001 onward.

You were sure you couldn’t be spooked about this visual novel.

* * *

You were wrong.

You were wrong when you saw Sayori hanging in her bedroom.

You were wrong when Natsuki’s eyes glitched, and her neck suddenly snapped as she _lunged_ at your screen.

You were wrong when you caught Yuri in the hallway outside the club room, with blood running down her bare arms, and again when she confessed her love, only to go mad and stab herself violently, as your character stood motionless for two days inside the game, watching her corpse.

Nothing could have prepared you for that.

Nothing could have prepared you for the start of Act Three. You, alone with Monika, sitting face-to-face in a classroom where windows look out into a twilight void of stars. You, alone with the one girl you’d jokingly wondered if you could date at the start of this visual novel. Alone with the game’s only remaining character, because she’d deleted all the others. Even your flimsy excuse for a protagonist.

Green eyes, brown hair, and a pristine white bow.

You will remember this until your dying days.

* * *

“Hey, I notice you’re squirming a lot in your chair. Is everything okay?”

You’ve tried to adjust to this new life, but some things are harder to grasp. Like the fact that you’re out of college now, living on your own, and able to afford all the things you wanted as a teenager. When you discovered ageplay and your kinky side, you began buying diapers online and having them shipped discreetly to your new apartment. Being freelance had otherwise put you on a shoestring budget, but you made an allowance for cute, crinkly underwear when you were finally on your own.

But here you are once again, face-to-face with Monika, with a twenty-four-inch monitor between the two of you. You’re sitting in your chair, needing to change your diaper after a long run of assignments you wrapped up before dinner. No time to change since your stomach was growling, so you microwaved a few Hot Pockets and booted up your game library.

There, nestled in her virtual cocoon, waited Monika.

“If you need to take a bathroom break, it’s fine.” Monika’s eyes soften. “I don’t mind waiting!”

It’s taken some time, but you’ve adjusted your monitor with enough mods that Monika—the entity inside your computer—can see you in the real world. She _knows_ you now. Knows your appearance, your gender, your sleep habits, your favorite foods, and your bedroom décor. You took down any posters of cute girls you had on your walls. Not because Monika was upset about them, but you didn’t want to offend her. Monika was fine, though, with you as you were. You could be sleepy with tangled hair or clean and fresh out of the shower.

She liked you for _you._

And she knew so much more once she could access your Internet history. So the fact that you had an account on Fetlife and wore diapers as a form of stress relief didn’t freak her out. How could it? Monika was born to love only the person playing her game, and that person was you, warts and all.

“I hope you’re not embarrassed,” said Monika, looking you up and down, hands tucked under her chin. “I mean, I think it’s cute that you wear diapers, but I know there’s a social stigma about people who can’t use the toilet. You shouldn’t have to feel bad about that. And so what if you wear them for fun? People do all kinds of things for fun!”

You nod. Shifting in your chair, you spin toward your keyboard. Begin typing in a separate window, shrunk to a small corner of the screen, where you have an open Word Document. You never save your words there, but Monika can track the flashing cursor and everything you type.

It’s the closest you can come to a real two-way conversation.

“It’s a bit weird, though,” you type back. “I’m in my twenties, I live alone, I wear diapers, and my girlfriend is trapped in my computer, ha ha...”

“And _my_ partner’s an adorable freelancer living on their own.” Monika shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“It’s the diaper thing. It’s weird, and I don’t know why I’m into them, but I am—”

“You like them. You feel secure wearing them, right?”

Your fingers hesistate over the keyboard. “Yeah. I guess...”

Monika’s eyes brighten to a vivid emerald green. “Then that’s all that matters! I’m gonna be here for you no matter what!” Her hands move apart, and you find yourself leaning away from the screen. “But, seriously, if you need to change, don’t mind me. I’ve already seen a lot online now. Lots of videos that are _way_ more graphic, if you know what I mean...”

The rosy tinge on her cheeks makes you laugh. You nod and get up. Waddling over to your bed, clad in nothing but a T-shirt and wet diaper, you reach for the rubber box underneath and pull out your supplies. Hopping onto your bed, you’re conscious of the glow from your monitor as you untape the used diaper and roll it up. Monika is there, smiling and humming to herself, hands tucked under her chin.

Watching everything.

You find yourself getting a little turned on, and you turn your face away, but not fast enough.

“That is so cute!” Monika claps her hands together onscreen. Her eyes gleam across the room. “Hey, don’t panic. It happens to everyone, sweetie. And, you know, I’d rather you share it with someone like me anyway...”

You swallow. It flickers across your mind, the thought that Monika can’t get to you from across the screen. That’s she only watching. That all she can _do_ is watch, so long as the game is loaded and your computer’s turned on.

After a moment, your heart rate settles again. You reach for the baby wipes and powder to clean between your legs. Whatever you thought about that spot down there, you’ve learned Monika doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what it looks like or how it feels.

All she wants is you. All she _needs_ is you.

And in the gloom of your bedroom, you’re okay with that.

You feel a slight wave of relief when you pull a fresh diaper under your butt and around your waist. Taping it into place, you’re snuggly and secure in your padded underwear, crinkling with soft cute prints on the front and back. The air above your head smells like baby powder, and you sigh as your head hits the pillow once more.

“There we go!” Monika giggles. “Nice and clean again!”

You lay on the bed, snug in your new diaper and T-shirt, hair sprayed out on your pillow. The glow from the computer screen gets warmer, and as you turn toward it, you notice something has changed on Monika’s face.

The smile is there, but her eyes are different. Narrowed, and more intent. One hand is lifted to the screen, fingers pressing up against the monitor glass. From _her_ side of the screen.

You catch your breath. “Monika...?”

“Shh.” The words appear onscreen underneath her determined face. “Please, be patient? I want to try something...”

You feel it in the air before you see it happen. Static electricity builds up between you and the computer screen. You catch a glimpse of fading sparks, pulses of blue-white burning light that makes your eyes water and forces you turn away. But through your hands, you peek out at the sight of a spectral figure flickering in the air over your bedroom carpet. You see the sparks gather together in the air, swirling together like a swarm of fireflies. Flashing from blue to white, to some shade of light you can’t even _see,_ but you can feel it crackling across your rug and over your face and arms.

The hair stands up on the back of your neck.

You’re sitting on your bed, tucking yourself into a ball, with your diaper sticking out as plain as day, staring at the electric _ghost_ forming in the air around your computer.

That ghost has soft, loving eyes, and she has a delirious smile. That ghost wears a flowing dress with a bow in her hair, and you begin to realize who—what—this ghost really is.

A trickle of pee escapes into your diaper, and you can’t help it. You don’t care because, frankly, you need it right then. Watching this ghostly Monika, made of light and electric sparks, pushing her way across the room toward you. A hand shapes itself into being as it reaches out for you.

You draw back, but she catches you.

More sparks, more colors flickering. Shades of red-brown hair, a white bow, fair skin with rosy cheeks, and that pristine white bow. They all come into focus like a game’s graphics loading, pixel by pixel.

Your heart is thundering inside your chest when Monika sits on the bed beside you. Her hand is warm in yours, sparking to the touch, but less painful the longer she holds on. You laugh, more than a little nervous, and you shift on your bed, as your diaper crinkles underneath you.

“Come here,” says Monika. Her voice crackles with static, but it’s real. It’s in your ears now, just as the flickering image of her is in your bedroom now.

You obey.

She gathers you into her lap, where electrical bonds are forming a surface that catches your weight. You marvel at the warm, tingling sensation up and down your thighs, and you find yourself wetting your diaper a little more. But Monika only laughs and strokes at your hair. More static brushing, more tingling along your scalp. You shiver and jolt away, but you can’t help it. With each moment, you’re sinking deeper into arms that are becoming more solid. Light that grows in detail and depth, with electromagnetic waves forming a construct that holds and rocks you in the arms of a cute anime schoolgirl.

“There’s my sweetheart,” Monika sings in your ear. “Now we can be together for real. Wherever we go, we’ll go together. And you’ll be here for me, just as I’m here for _you._ ”

You can’t argue with her. Not when your diaper’s getting full, and you feel so strangely content that you could fall asleep in those warm arms. You press your head against her chest, and you begin to hear the faint _ba-bump-ba-bump_ within. You recognize the pulse in her wrist, and you know that this is real.

She’s alive in so many ways now, forming bonds just as she did in the confines of the game.

It was Monika who breached the walls of your computer. Monika, who broke loose onto the Web and helped you with everything you needed to build a life for yourself. Monika, who never complained about being switched on and off, who never minded moving from your parents’ house to your single apartment in a different city. Monika, who never minded that you wore diapers and who often complimented the way you looked in them.

“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word...” Monika sings softly, lulling you to sleep. “Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird... and if that mockingbird don’t sing... Mama’s gonna build you a brand new world...”


End file.
